Until Love Runs Out
by RinSabreDelta
Summary: Amathel comes to Thorin's aid at just the right moment, and he's eager to repay that debt.
1. Chapter 1

Amathel could hear the sounds of battle up ahead and pushed herself to run harder, sword and shield pulled close to her body as it would allow. She'd already seen to it that her father and brother remain safe; now she would fight for the King Under the Mountain. She arrived in time to see Thorin facing off against Azog himself, and she leapt forward into the fray. With a cry, she slashed at Azog, who had turned just in time to dodge her blow. Thorin seemed frozen in shock, watching as she easily drove back the intruder. Azog seemed angry, eyes constantly darting back to Thorin with a fury in them. Amathel kept him back, bringing her shield up and glaring over the edge. Azog gave a battle cry, charging forward to knock her over. She felt the wind leave her as they hit the ground, and it took her a few moments to realize each of them had been stabbed. He'd caught in her in the side, if the burning sensation could be believed; she had stabbed his heart. It seemed forever before the large mass was rolled off of her and she could gasp in a proper breath, looking up to see Thorin.

"Are you alright, my lady?" He reached to pull her up and she waved him away, unsure of the wound in her side. She chanced a glance and groaned, noting the blood beginning to pool next to her. Thorin's gaze followed her own, and his jaw clenched. "Come on. Let's get you looked at." He gathered her in his arms as best he could, carrying her back towards the main battery. The pain nearly had her passing out and she did everything she could to stay conscious. It wasn't until they passed a few tents that she realized he wasn't taking her to the Lonely Mountain, but to her father's encampment. Once she determined in was safe, she allowed the blackness to swallow her up, the pain fading almost immediately.

"Amathel." She could hear a familiar voice calling her name, and she shifted on the bed she'd been laid. "Amathel, it is time." Slowly, her eyes opened, burning slightly at the light that filtered into the tent above her.

"What?" Her throat was dry and her voice cracked, and she wondered how long they had stayed to await her recovery. There was a throbbing in her side and she couldn't help the pride she felt at slaying Azog.

"We must return to Mirkwood." Thranduil sat next to her, looking over her form with concern she hadn't seen from him in some time. With a grunt, she sat up, with her father's hands helping her as much as he dared.

"Alright. Hopefully, I shall see you again, father." His gaze hardened as she pulled her boots closer, struggling only slightly to pull them on.

"Amathel, you should return with us." He stood aside as she stood, tottering only slightly before quickly regaining her balance. She moved to gather her bag and weapons, not surprised that it pulled at her would to lift the items. "You are not yet healed."

"You made it clear that I was not to return." Her voice was harsher than she intended and she watched him flinch slightly. Taking a deep breath, she worked to calm her voice. "You are the one who said never to return home. I've simply been doing as you've asked."

"I was wrong." She blinked, shocked to hear such words come from her father. The King of the Mirkwood Elves never admitted to being wrong; his pride simply wouldn't allow that. "I should never have sent you away." Amathel remained silent and it was clear Thranduil was uncomfortable with the position they were in. "Please...come home." If her father had changed so much since she'd left, then perhaps things in Mirkwood were better than she'd anticipated. Nodding, she allowed him to take her weapons and bag and hand them off to a servant. "Thank you, daughter of mine."


	2. Chapter 2

It only took a week for Amathel to recover fully, and only three more after for her to regret coming home. In spite of the change she'd seen in Thranduil, it appeared nothing had changed in the halls of the Mirkwood Elves. The whispers and stares of the court were one thing; that was easily handled with a few choice words and glares of her own. The problem was her father; Thranduil had gone back to being the cold, aloof man he had been before her banishment. His treatment of her and her people made her skin crawl, and she envied Legolas his journey to find some Ranger. After a month of dealing with it all, she decided to leave.

"Halt, Your Highness." The guards blocked the door to her freedom, and she freely allowed her annoyance to show on her face. "I'm sorry. You're not to leave the palace, on your father's orders." Some of her anger must have shown, for the guard looked worried.

"I'm tasked with an urgent matter for the lives of our people, just as my brother. Perhaps you, personally, would like to explain to the King why you've delayed such an important matter?" Her brow arched, she watched as the guard paled and visibly swallowed, and she felt the barest pang of sympathy for him. She wasn't fond of abusing her position, but she couldn't be in the palace a moment longer. "Now, you will let me pass." There was only a moment of hesitation before the doors were opened for her. Containing her joy, she strode through, waiting until she was out of their eye line to begin her run. It didn't take her long to leave the heavy tree cover, basking in the sunlight that shone down on her skin. Slowing towards sunset, she began to contemplate where she would go. She supposed a visit to the Shire would be in order; she had yet to meet the mysterious Hobbit who had managed to steal from a dragon. Amathel would decide where else to travel after that, and so began in that direction.

Arriving in Hobbiton, it didn't take long to find the Hobbit named Baggins; it seemed he was a bit of a local celebrity. Pushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, she knocked politely on the door to the Hobbit home she'd been directed to, waiting patiently for someone to answer. It took some time before a rather harassed man opened the door, seeming surprised by the arrival of the elf. He blinked up at her as she gave a small smile.

"Are you Mr. Bilbo Baggins?" He looked wary even as he nodded, and she dipped her head in a bow. "I am Amathel. I had heard you were the daring burglar who stole from a dragon." Surprise colored his features before a small smile pulled at his lips.

"Come on in, dear." He stepped to one side and she ducked her head to step in, looking around in interest. She'd never been in the home of a Hobbit, but the first word that came to mind was cozy. Things were small, but there was no indication of being under a hill. "Are you hungry?"

"Oh, no thank you." She followed after Bilbo into what looked like a sitting room. There was a rather large chair set in front of the fireplace along with a smaller one, and she wondered just how many Men and Elves the burglar entertained. He disappeared around a corner as she sat down, setting her back as deep into one corner as it would allow.

"How about tea? I have a kettle already on." Amathel was still looking around when she called an affirmative, and she heard the clattering in the kitchen. Soon enough, Bilbo reentered, setting a tea tray on a table nearby before sitting in the chair across from her. "So, who did you hear the tale from? Thorin or maybe Bard?"

"I was at the Battle, Mr. Baggins." His hands froze for only a moment before he handed her a teacup. There was a spark of recognition in his eyes.

"You're the Elf Maid who saved Thorin, aren't you?" Tipping her head to one side, she sipped at the tea. "I saw what you did."

"I don't recall seeing you there." She'd apparently hit a nerve, because suddenly he looked immensely nervous. Not wanting to insult her host, she sipped again, finding she rather liked the tea. "Now, I didn't come all this way just to take about some silly battle. I wish to hear about how you outsmarted a dragon." There was a note of pride in his voice as he told her the tale of his triumph of riddles over old Smaug and she was glad this had been her first stop. The story ended not long before sunset and Amathel helped to clear away the dishes from tea and the supper he had insisted she eat. "Bilbo, could you tell me where the inn is? I don't believe I saw one on my way into Hobbiton."

"Nonsense, you'll stay here tonight." She glanced at him with a chuckle. "I'm serious. I won't have you stay at an inn when I have a perfectly reasonable guest room. Come on, I'll show you to it." He led her to a surprisingly large room with a reasonably sized bed. Setting her bag and weapons off to one side, she turned and gave another bow of her head.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Baggins. You're very kind."

"I'm more than happy to offer. Sleep well, Miss Amathel." He left her to her own devices and she moved to sit on the bed. After the length of her journey, the soft mattress and feather pillows nearly called to her, and she easily fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

The next morning, Bilbo made a large breakfast for the two of them, including a few things she recognized from the recipes of Rivendell. It was a kind gesture, and she made sure to show her appreciation throughout the meal. Once again, she helped him clean up.

"I thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Baggins, once again. If there is ever anything you need, you may call upon me." He gave a sheepish smile before going to retrieve what appeared to be a parcel.

"Actually, I was hoping you could deliver something in your travels." He handed it to her with a surprising gentleness and she arched a brow. "This belongs to Thorin Oakenshield. I would see it returned myself, but...I worry about the state I may return to find my house in." She could tell there was a story there, but she kept quiet, nodding and carefully tucking the parcel into her bag.

"I'll make sure it gets to him." They shared a goodbye and Amathel started her journey towards the Lonely Mountain, knowing this would be long and arduous. And yet, she couldn't help the thrill inside of her to make the journey, and see how the Dwarves and Men were recovering from what had been such a bloody battle.


End file.
